


Several Old HP Drabbles

by KatScratches



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, just drabbles, more old stuff, serious title suckage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-29 11:06:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3894067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatScratches/pseuds/KatScratches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I realised the other day that I hadn't actually uploaded all my older fic, and came across a baker's dozen of super-short drabbles I'd written for some friends. Some are pairings, some are not, all are meant in fun. Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Several Old HP Drabbles

**Spider** (James/Lily)

After the curtains had been hung – and then re-hung, as James had put them up backwards the first time – they sat back on the squashy couch to admire their work.

“They’re a bit funny on that side,” Lily said, tilting her head.

James’ sudden shriek sliced through the air, startling Lily from her thoughts. “What? What is it?” she said frantically.

James pointed to an infinitesimal speck near the curtain rod with one trembling hand . “It’s practically a bloody Acromantula,” he said shakily.

“Honestly,” Lily grumbled, reaching for her wand, “I thought _I_ was supposed to be the girl.”

 

 **Cakeless** (Remus/Regulus)

“Take it off.”

“Not a chance.” Regulus leaned back against the headboard, eyes agleam. He traced one hand lazily down his bare chest. “Besides, I thought you _liked_ it.”

Remus’ eyes narrowed. “That’s not the point.”

In an eyeblink he was straddling Regulus, one finger crooked under the collar encircling the other boy’s slender throat. “It’s Sirius’. Take. It. _Off_.”

Regulus’ eyes narrowed to slits. He thrust his hips up towards Remus – once, twice -- savouring the elicited groan. “I know it’s bloody well his. _No_.”

“Right, then,” Remus said coolly, pushing himself off the bed. “No cake for you.”

 

 **Collared** (Remus/Regulus, implied Remus/Sirius)

“Don’t fucking _move_.”

Remus froze at the sound of Sirius’ voice, wishing mightily that he was anywhere other than balls-deep inside Regulus Black.

Sirius strode over to the bed, eyes flashing. “What the _fuck_ , Reg,” he growled, hooking two fingers under the leather collar circling his brother’s throat and giving it a sharp tug. “Mine. D’you understand? _Mine_.”

“Take it, then,” Regulus snapped, reaching up to undo the collar. “And welcome to it.”

Sirius’ eyes flicked down at the circlet of leather as Regulus dropped it on the floor. “Not that,” he hissed, splaying one hand against Remus’ chest. “ _This_.”

 

 **Haircut** (Remus/Sirius)

Sirius rubbed one hand back and forth across his freshly shorn head. “It’s so short,” he complained. “Makes me feel naked.”

“Would that you were!” Remus laughed. He ruffled what was left of Sirius’ hair and added, “But we can remedy that later. You look like yourself again, now.”

Sirius wrinkled his nose. “Who’d I look like before?” he countered.

Remus glanced furtively at the greasy clumps of black locks scattered on the floor, his mind flashing with memories of vial upon vial of Wolfsbane potion, and a sour, sneering voice.

“No one,” he said hastily. “No one at all.”

 

 **Confinement** (teenage Sirius)

In two years’ time, he thinks, lying flat on his back on his bed, he’ll be of age and he can leave all this behind. Just him and Remus, in two years’ time…

He sits up awkwardly as the door edges open, scowling as Kreacher creeps into the room, overladen with an armful of laundry.

“Kreacher has brought Master some clean socks,” the house elf muttered. “Will Master be needing anything else?”

Sirius stares back at Kreacher. The sharp pang of longing for his friends ( _for Remus_ , his mind insists) is nearly a physical pain.

“Not from _you_ ,” he grumbles.

 

 **Socks** (teenage Sirius, implied Sirius/James)

So good. So _good_ , his hand stroking, pulling. Behind eyes slitted shut, Sirius envisions James leaning over him, black hair tousled, hazel eyes slightly unfocussed without his glasses. He’s heard people remark how he and James are all but joined at the hip; if they only knew, Sirius thinks, how James’ pink tongue wraps around his cock like it’s the tastiest Honeydukes’ treat.

“Master will be cold wearing only his socks.”

Sirius yelps in shock, diving for cover as Kreacher sidles into the room. His face is scarlet as he hisses at the smirking house elf, “Get _ou_ t of here!”

 

 **Chocolate** (Sirius/Severus)

He cornered Severus Snape in the front hallway, pressing him up against the faded, peeling wallpaper.

“I know you’ve got some,” Sirius hissed. “Where is it?”

“Unhand me,” Severus retorted. “And where’s what?”

“This,” Sirius said, his tongue darting out to lick at a tiny smear of chocolate at the corner of Severus’ mouth.

Severus pushed one hand firmly against Sirius’ chest. “Bad dog!” he growled. “Get off me, mongrel!”

“Chocolate,” Sirius insisted. “ _Now_.”

Severus glanced furtively up and down the dim hall. It was empty, save them.

“Fine,” he relented. “Drawing room, ten p.m. You bring the whipped cream.”

 

 **Ties** (Remus/Sirius)

“Moony.”

Remus glances down at Sirius as he expertly loops and knots the school tie around Sirius’ wrists. “Mm?”

“Why’m I always the one being tied up?”

Remus studies him for a moment as he straddles Sirius’ bare chest. Sirius’ eyes are nearly fever-bright, his cheeks flushed, his beautifully sculpted lips slightly apart. Anticipation pools in Remus’ groin. Soon he’ll be sheathed deep with Sirius, fucking him for all he’s worth.

“Because you like it,” Remus finally says.

Sirius just grins.

Remus gives an experimental tug at the tie. _Nice and tight_ , he thinks approvingly, eyeing Sirius. _Nice and tight_.

 

 **Bubbles** (Remus/Sirius)

The water is almost soporifically warm.

Remus eases himself into the deep clawfooted tub, down into the lull of the bathwater, down until only his head and his knees poke out from the honey-scented bubbles. His head lolls to one side, eyes closed, letting the heat of the water seep into his very bones, while the tension melts away.

“Scrub your back?” Sirius offers.

“Tempting, tempting,” Remus murmurs.

The tub really _is_ big enough for two, they realize with much delight, and by the time they are done with it, the bubbles have gone and the water turned quite cold.

 

 **Mittens** (Remus/Sirius)

The snowball hits him hard in the back of his head, unbelievably cold and wet.

Remus whirls around and dives for Sirius, who is doubled over with laughter in the snow. They tumble to the ground in a wrestling, writhing heap.

“Fuck, it’s _cold,_ ” Sirius gasps, rubbing his bare hands together, the palms red and damp from the snow.

“ _Some_ people,” Remus says airily, “would wear mittens.”

Sirius snorted. “Keep losing them, don’t I?”

Remus leans in then and kisses him hard, their mingled breath frosty in the freezing air. “Stop taking them off, then,” he whispers against Sirius’ lips.

 

 **Art** (implied Remus/Neville)

“I thought better of you, Neville,” Remus said, shaking his head as he gestured at the parchment rolled up on his desk.

Neville mumbled an apology, scarlet to the very tips of his ears.

“What made you think,” Remus continued, “that I could allow such lewd drawings to go unpunished? Suppose I’d been another teacher – Professor Snape, for instance.”

Neville pulled a face and said, “I don’t think about Professor Snape naked, sir.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “But you do _me_?” he asked. “Right. Several nights detention, I should think.”

Smirking at Neville’s damning flush, he added, “My quarters. Alone.”

 

 **Smoke** (Remus/Sirius, mild drug use)

Sirius eyes the spliff Remus holds out. “What is it again?” he asks for the sixth time.

“I told you,” Remus explains, slightly exasperated. “It’s like Muggle gillyweed. Lily got it.”

“It’s crap,” Sirius announces, and Remus mumbles an assent. It’s been three quarters of an hour and several joints between them, but either has yet to feel anything.

“You smell good,” Remus says suddenly, and presses his mouth against Sirius’ in a languid kiss. A moment later, he adds, “You hungry?”

“Starving,” Sirius admits. “Kitchens?”

“Rather eat _you_ ,” Remus says cheekily, and Sirius is quite happy to let him.

 

 **Mistletoe** (Sirius/Lily)

The candlelight shimmering over her hair is what captivates him. Before he can stop himself, Sirius is twining his fingers through it, bending his head to meet hers. He and James have always shared everything; sometimes Lily is no exception.

As his lips press against Lily’s, her arms encircle him, pulling their bodies tightly together. Her mouth is warm, and insistent, and he wants very much to do more than simply kiss her.

“Sirius,” she begins, faintly breathless.

“Hush,” he chides. “There was mistletoe. You hung it yourself.”

“Yes,” Lily agrees dryly. “But I hung it in the other room.”


End file.
